


The Guardian

by nutmeag83



Category: Fairy Tale - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Anthropomorphic, Castles, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Style, Family, Friendship, Gen, Longing, Love, M/M, M/M if you squint, Wishes, and finding love and happiness, but it's mostly about friendship, but not angsty, vaguely Scottish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 02:04:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11818929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nutmeag83/pseuds/nutmeag83
Summary: A story of a castle who guards its family, a castle who longs and loves and learns to live through its inhabitants."The castle felt warmed at being recognized. Its job was to guard its inhabitants, not ask for recognition or thanks. But the fact that Callum understood the castle filled the castle with… with… joy? The castle puzzled over this for a while, but concluded that joy was the correct term. The castle was feeling, as it could never remember feeling before."





	The Guardian

**Author's Note:**

> I had this vague thought of "what if a castle had feelings?" and this is what came of it. For my usual Sherlock/Johnlock readers: sorry, this is an original tale! I hope you still give it a chance and enjoy it. :)
> 
> P.S. The castle eventually gets the name Castiel, but this is not a Supernatural AU. I just have always liked the name, and it fit my castle, so I stole it.

**Prologue**

The castle had stood strong for centuries, watching over the families who had lived there, keeping them safe. It was a small castle, by castle standards, up in the highlands where the wind blew hard and cold, but it had produced a hardy lot during its long life. At one time, the castle had been filled to the brim—children playing games, men raising livestock and crops, women producing warm clothing and hearty meals—but over time, the numbers had dwindled. From hundreds to tens, to finally just three.

The castle did not care for the elder two—a husband and wife—they were selfish and had let the castle run to ruin, just as the last few generations before them, but worse. The young one, however, was kind. He helped small animals when they were sick. He asked about the housekeeper’s day and helped the gardener pull weeds. He kept his nursery tidy and began to help with the dusting when one of the maids was let go. He was also the curious sort and spent hours in the castle’s attics, exploring and discovering the furniture and other treasures. The castle liked the young one.

The young one was lonely, though. His parents didn’t care much for him, and he had no friends. While the castle did not have feelings in the way humans did, it felt the boy’s pain and wished it could help. Its job was to guard the family that lived and keep them safe, but this was not a difficult job with only three family members and a few servants. So the castle learned to help in other ways.

It ushered the warmest air into the nursery during the long winter nights and guided the best rays of the sun to shine through the windows by day. Over time, it realized it could influence certain things, and soon the boy had two kittens to keep him company. Once the castle learned to master the movement of objects, it kept the boy occupied with dancing dolls and trains that traveled around the room unaided.

The boy never questioned this. The castle had always felt alive to him, so why shouldn’t it move objects around the room and create music where none should exist?

In time, however, the boy had to go away. The parents decided it was time he had a real education. Though the boy was sad—he would miss his castle—he was excited at the chance to learn new things and be far from his parents.

The castle, though not possessing feelings in the usual manner, knew it would miss the boy, the last bit of goodness left in the castle, but it wished the boy the best and settled back down to doing what it was made to do—guard its human occupants.

###

Years passed.

###

The castle awoke slowly; something had entered its doors. It was not uncommon for a curious soul to wander the deserted halls, no matter that it was technically still owned by the family the castle had guarded for centuries. The two of the family that the castle did not like had left soon after the boy, and everything had closed down. The castle grew sluggish and sleepy and had eventually fallen to slumber, awaking only when someone occasionally walked the halls.

As someone did now. First just one—young, but full-grown. The man walked slowly through the shrouded and dusty rooms. For a moment, the castle considered ousting the man as he had others. But then the castle realized that the soul was a familiar one, though it could not place it at first. Soon the man was joined by others. Where he had walked slowly, they moved with purpose. Soon shrouds came down in the library, where the man stood, looking around. He walked to a bookshelf and stroked the smooth wood, and then the castle knew. This was his boy, the one who had left years before. The boy had grown, as all boys do, but he still felt the same. Still kind, still curious.

The boy—man—called out to the others. “Just the library, master chambers, and any rooms necessary for the servants, please.” The man nearest him nodded and went to consult with a woman in the kitchens.

As asked, only a few rooms were unshrouded and cleaned that afternoon. The young man (the castle strained to remember the label given to him by his parents, but nothing came of it) stayed in the library, pulling a chair close to the hearth after a fire was started—it was a chilly day and the castle was cool even during the hottest days of summer—and reading through a stack of books he pulled off of the shelves.

Over the next few days, the castle watched as life came back to the grounds and halls. Quieter than in the early days of the castle’s life, but livelier than it had been before the boy had left. The castle learned his boy was called Callum or Sir, depending on who was addressing him. He spent much time helping clean the newly reopened rooms, but just as much time wandering elsewhere in the house. What would start as a quiet walk quickly became a mission to unearth yet another room, Callum’s quiet chuckles filling the space as he discovered something new.

People would sometimes search him out to ask a question, then return to their duties as Callum smiled over an old toy or piece of art. By the end of the first week, more of the castle than originally expected had been cleaned out and opened up, the slowly warming late spring wind entering through cleaned and oiled open windows.

Activity slowed after a few weeks, though people still tromped through the castle each day. The castle delighted in this, having people to protect again. It also delighted in having Callum back in its safe embrace. But though Callum had much to keep him busy, he still seemed as lonely as when he had left years before. People talked to him only to speak business, and then they quickly returned to their own jobs.

The castle learned that Callum had done well for himself while away, writing tales for children, books that became quite popular. However, he had suffered some calamity in the city and had returned to the castle to recover. The longer Callum spent in the castle, though, the less it seemed as though he would return to his house in the city. More rooms were opened and cleaned. The castle wondered why Callum wanted to stay despite feeling so lonely, but the castle had never quite understood human emotion.

Callum began talking to himself when he sat alone in the library in the evenings. Soon the castle realized that Callum spoke to the castle, not to himself. At first he talked of general thoughts and feelings, but then he began reminiscing of his time in the castle as a child.

“I loved it when you played with my toys.” The castle perked up as Callum chuckled. “The shows you put on for me. After a few years away from home, I began to think none of it was real, that it was just the overactive imagination of a lonely boy. I wrote you into my stories, though. Stories of children who stumbled across houses that felt alive, that helped the children in their adventures. And then, I came home, and here you were. The moment I touched the bookcase that first day, I knew I hadn’t made it up. You _were_ alive. You _are_ alive, aren’t you?”

The castle felt warmed at being recognized. Its job was to guard its inhabitants, not ask for recognition or thanks. But the fact that Callum understood the castle filled the castle with… with… joy? The castle puzzled over this for a while, but concluded that joy was the correct term. The castle was feeling, as it could never remember feeling before.

###

Callum’s chats with the castle became a nightly occurrence. He would settle into his chair after supper with a book and a glass of whiskey, but instead of opening the book, he would talk. He spoke of his time away from the castle—the years at school, his realization that he loved to write and that he wrote well, the books he wrote. He spoke of people and places that dizzied the castle, as it had never visited anywhere. Things came to visit it. It had vague memories of quarries and forests far away, but nothing concrete of its time before being a castle. And in any case, the adventures of people were not for a castle to fathom. A castle served a different purpose.

Still, the castle longed to see what Callum saw, to read the books Callum wrote (not that the castle knew how to read), to go on adventures with Callum. It also longed to see the moors beyond the small area where the castle rested. It wanted to experience oceans and rivers and forests. It wanted to hail a cab and eat shepherd’s pie and dance at a party.

Callum felt the castle’s restlessness. “What’s wrong, my old friend?” he asked one evening. “Are my tales making you sad?” The castle wafted a breeze over Callum’s cheek. Callum smiled. He always understood the castle’s feelings. “I’m sorry. I only meant to entertain you, as you entertained me during my childhood.” The castle pushed a warmer breeze at Callum. It did not wish to see Callum upset. It tried to convey encouragement.

Callum sighed. “I will not tease you anymore. In truth, I also tell the tales because I am lonely. I do not wish for the city any longer, but I long for a friend to keep me company. And people. You should be full of children, being rowdy and discovering just as I did. People bustling about. I do not miss the city, but I miss the people.”

The castle strained to produce a few musical notes, but it was still weak from being alone for so long. All it managed was a soft sigh, but Callum seemed to understand. “I wish you could help, too.”

###

Late that night, the castle observed smoke rising from the nearby village, heard shouts from people. After a while, there was calm again, with only the occasional call from a human. Just before sunrise, the castle heard another sound, quieter, but distressing. It came from a small, walled-off garden on the east side of the grounds. After many hours and as much leading as the castle could manage, Callum stumbled on a small girl, crying quietly in the garden.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, kneeling on the ground near, but not too near, her.

She shook her head, but did not speak.

“Are you from the village? I heard there was a fire last night. Did it frighten you?”

She nodded, but still refused to speak.

“Where are your parents?”

That question earned Callum a fresh bout of tears, but no words.

“Oh,” he said softly in understanding. After a moment of thought, he asked, “Would you like a cup of chocolate?”

The girl’s crying slowed a tad, and she looked at him for the first time.

Callum smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes. Come along.” He stood and nodded toward the castle door. “I’m called Callum. You?”

The girl stood slowly and followed. “Emmaline,” she whispered.

“It’s a pleasure, Emmaline. We might have some biscuits, too, if you’re hungry. You must’ve missed breakfast.”

After a rather unhealthy breakfast of chocolate, scones, and biscuits, Emmaline was persuaded to be washed up a bit, as she was covered in soot. She spoke no more words, but she also refused to go back to the village. The housekeeper, a serious but kind young woman called Smith, managed to bundle the girl up in front of the library hearth with a pile of blankets.

Emmaline’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the books. Callum found a zoological book with a great number of pictures to keep the girl occupied until she fell asleep, which took only a few minutes after the wildness of the previous night.

“What am I to do with her?” Callum asked the castle softly, watching her from his desk. “John says she has no family, and her house has been ruined.”

The castle sighed softly. It had heard John the gardener speaking to the cook about the girl. She was all alone, just like Callum. But if they were both alone, perhaps they could help each other? Before the castle could try to convey the thought, Callum stood.

“Perhaps I could…Would you like a child to live here?”

The castle would like many children running the halls, but one was a good start. It caressed Callum’s cheek softly. Callum smiled. “I would, too.”

###

Having a child around changed the air. Emmaline was quiet, but she was mischievous. After a few weeks of being coaxed around the house and grounds by Callum, Emmaline began to speak. Soon she was stealing scones and putting toads in Callum’s slippers, causing Callum to laugh and chase her around the room. The castle loved (yes, loved) Callum’s laugh. It had been too long since laughter was a regular visitor to the castle.

Callum settled into a routine of teaching Emmaline her letters in the morning, and taking her out for rides in the afternoon. The castle missed them when they were gone, but their joy upon their return was more than enough to buoy the castle’s spirits. At Callum’s insistence, the cook began bringing her son and daughter to work with her, to give Emmaline playmates, which morphed into Callum teaching them as well. He soon realized he loved teaching, and the library was often filled with excitement and laughter.

The castle never grew tired of watching its occupants and visitors enjoy each other, but it longed to join them. It wanted to speak with Callum. It wanted to tweak Emmaline’s ginger plaits and throw a ball to Robbie, the cook’s son. It wanted to help Robbie’s sister Mary learn maths, and it wanted to dig in the earth with John the gardener.

Late one afternoon, Callum sat by an open window with a book he meant to teach the next day. It must have been fascinating, because he had barely talked to the castle all day. It was making the castle cross to be ignored, a feeling the castle was only beginning to understand. It wanted to talk to Callum. To be heard as Callum heard Emmaline and Mary during luncheon. A feeling built in the castle, and it did not understand it.

“It’s not fair!”

Callum’s head came up with a start. He stared across the library at something.

“Where did you come from?”

The castle did not know who spoke or what Callum was staring at in alarm. After a moment, Callum asked “Who are you?”

The castle didn’t understand to whom Callum spoke. It saw no one in the room.

Callum strode forward. “How did you get into my castle?” The castle felt a bubble of warmth at Callum’s possessive tone.

“Do you think this is funny? I will have you removed at once!” Callum grasped an arm, and the castle realized several things at once. It was seeing Callum’s face up close, but only from one angle, and it felt something just a bit lower than its usual perspective. Not an emotional feeling, but a physical one. Finally, it realized to whom Callum addressed.

“Oh,” it said in surprise. The castle was no longer a castle. It was a man.

“So you understand the seriousness of this situation. Trespassing will not be looked on kindly by the constable, I assure you.”

“Oh,” said the man—the castle—again. “Callum. I did it.”

“I’m glad you admit to it, seeing as you’re standing in my home.”

Joy bubbled up in the castle as it realized it was standing inside of itself. “Callum, it’s me.”

Something in the voice caused Callum to stop tugging the man to the door. He stared at the man a moment. “Am I supposed to know you?”

“I entertained you in your nursery with music and flying toys.”

Callum stared for a moment, not comprehending.

“I’ve kept generations of your family safe from weather and invading armies and fires and long nights. I watched you read _Le Morte d’Arthur_ so many times it fell apart. I raced you down the halls and helped you discover treasures in the attics. Not five minutes ago, I watched Emmaline put a toad in your slipper and then sneak into the kitchen for some nibbles. I’ve been with you your entire life.”

“But…how?” Callum asked, incredulity warring with understanding on his face.

“I’ve wished for so long, I think it finally came true.”

“You wished…”

“I long to see the places you teach the children about. I want to try Turkish Delight. I want to hear a symphony.”

“Oh.”

“But mostly, I wanted to talk with you. Even if this lasts only five minutes, I can go back to being a castle, happy in the knowledge that I spoke to you.”

Callum smiled shyly. “Oh. I’ve longed to talk with you, as well.”

“But you speak to me all the time.”

Callum shrugged. “In a way, but never like this. Hearing your words, seeing you…”

“We are equals now.”

“Yes.” Callum stared at the castle for a while. “So, you’re gone from the castle now? Your consciousness no longer resides in the building itself?”

The castle pondered it a moment, then walked over to a wall and touched it with his hand—he had a hand! “I think… the part of me that developed emotions split off. I still feel a consciousness in the walls, but not emotions.”

Callum mirrored the castle’s pose. “You’re right. It feels different.”

A whinny floated through the open window. “Will you take me riding? It looks like so much fun.”

“Fun?” Callum’s mouth twitched, as if to hold in a smile.

“Yes,” the castle replied, nodding his head.

And so they went riding. Emmaline came along. She seemed to instinctively understand who the man was and what he had been before.

“We must give him a name,” she said as they took their tea on a picnic blanket settled among the heather.

“Of course. How could I fail to…” Callum trailed off, looking abashed.

“Do not worry,” the castle said, smiling gently at his friend.

“Castiel,” Emmaline said with triumph.

“Castiel?” asked Callum.

“It’s like castle but not. Castiel O’Dornie.”

“It’s very… on the nose.” Callum said slowly.

The castle smiled. “I like it. I am honored to be named after your village, Emmaline.”

“If you like it, then that’s what we’ll call you,” stated Callum, standing up. “Now we must return before it gets late.”

###

Castiel did many things he had never been able to do as a castle. The children took him fishing, Callum taught him to ride, he tried every dessert the cook could think to make, he learned to sing and dance at a village ceilidh. He loved every minute of it, but he longed for more.

“I want to see the city. And the ocean,” Castiel said one evening as he and Callum sat by the library fire.

“Oh?” Callum looked up from the book he was perusing. Castiel thought he looked a little nervous. “I suppose we could take Emmaline up to the coast for a few weeks.”

“Is that where the city lies?”

“No. The city is very far from here. I could take you to one of the nearby towns. They’re like the village, but larger.”

“But they’re not the city?”

“No.”

“I want to see the city. The one you lived in. And I want to visit other countries. Sail the ocean, too.”

“I—I can’t, Cas.”

“Why not?”

“The city… is not a happy place for me.”

“Well, can I go to the city?”

“By yourself?” Callum looked horrified. “That’s not a good idea. It’s a very dangerous place, especially for one still learning how the world works.”

Castiel wished to pursue the matter, but could see that it upset Callum, so he stopped. “When can we go to the ocean, Cal?”

Callum smiled in obvious relief. “We should go before it gets cold. How about in two weeks?”

“Yes, please.”

And so they took Emmaline to the coast and spent a wonderful couple of weeks exploring every cave and dune and mud flat. Castiel was amazed that the water could go on for so long. It was like the moors at home, if they were made of water.

A few weeks after their return, a troupe came to the village, promising a show filled with singing and dancing and monologues and fight scenes. Castiel drank in the performance, being familiar with the idea from when other troupes had come through, but this was the first one he’d seen up close. He spoke with one of the players after and learned they traveled all over the land, going even to the city.

“I would like to travel with the troupe when they leave,” Castiel said when they returned home that night.

“What?!?”

“I became human so that I could see the world, and I’ve loved what I’ve seen so far. But I want to see more. I want to meet more people and see new places.”

“Cas,” Callum began, but couldn’t continue. Castiel knew he was hurting his friend.

“I need to go out on my own now.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“I know. I’ll figure it out.”

Callum took a shuddering breath. “I heard John speaking with the troupe. I think he will be leaving with them. He’ll watch over you.”

Castiel grinned. “Thank you, Cal.”

“It’s your dream, Cas. I can’t stop you.” Castiel unhappily ignored his friend’s sadness. He deserved to dream too, didn’t he?

###

Castiel traveled what felt like the entire world. He saw many towns—some on tops of mountains, some near rivers, others along the coast—and many people. He heard new languages. He and John left the troupe when they reached the city. John joined the landscapers’ guild while Castiel tutored history to young children. They rented rooms in a spare but clean boarding house. On weekends he toured the city. He was not impressed with the palace, he cried at the tower, and he loved the old taverns and shops in the old part of the city.

Through it all, he missed home. He wanted to hear the wind wuffle through the heather on a summer’s night and see the sun shine on the pond near the castle. More than anything, he wanted to be near Callum and Emmaline again. He missed their smiles and their laughter. Mostly he missed the quiet evenings spent in the library with Callum.

And so, after a few months in the city and a year’s worth of traveling, Castiel said good bye to John and returned home. It was late in the evening when he arrived, so he walked quietly up the stairs to the library. Firelight danced with shadows on the walls and outlined Callum’s face as he hunched over a book.

“Don’t you read enough during the day, Cal?” Castiel asked quietly. Nervously. What if Callum hated him? Or worse, what if he had moved on? Castiel felt that more people resided in the house now than had when he left over a year ago. Perhaps Callum had married. His stomach clenched.

Callum’s head shot up. “Cas?” The book fell to the floor, forgotten, as Callum rose from his seat. “Is that really you?”

“Who else would come begging to be allowed back home? Especially this late at night.” Castiel scratched his head nervously. Did he still have a home?

“Cas.” The word sounded broken and confused. Callum took a few steps closer, giving Castiel the courage to do the same. When he stood directly in front of Callum, Callum’s hand came up and touched Castiel’s arm. “It’s really you.”

“What’s wrong, Callum?”

“I think the castle was trying to help, after you left. Sometimes I would see you or hear your voice. But it hurt too much, so I told the castle to stop. I haven’t seen a vision of you in months. And now…”

“I’m home.”

Callum smiled. “You’re home.” His face went serious. “For a visit?”

“To stay, if you’ll have me.”

“Of course I’ll have you. You’re my best friend!”

Castiel’s tension eased just a tiny bit. “There are others living here now. I thought you’d…”

Callum grinned. “Replaced you? Not possible. Come, sit by the fire. You must be exhausted.”

Castiel sat in the chair and grasped the proffered whiskey glass tightly. “Did you marry?”

“Marry?” Callum laughed. “No.”

“Then who are the people in the castle?”

“I suppose I’ve become a bit of a boarding house lately.” Callum grinned wryly. “When Ann’s husband died last winter, she and the children came to live here. And with John gone, I needed to replace the gardener. A new family moved into town, and I offered them rooms along with the gardening job. The son has taken on a position as a stable boy/hunter. The new maid I hired a few weeks ago did not have a good home life, so I coaxed her into moving in as well, along with her younger sister.”

“You got your family.”

“Yes. It’s loud and boisterous and perfect, now that you’re back.” He said the last with a shy smile.

Castiel grinned back. “I can’t wait to meet everyone.”

**Epilogue**

Castiel and Callum lived out their days together in the castle. They did visit other countries and were frequent vacationers to the coast, but they were always ready to come home again. They had a big family to come home to, because Emmaline was followed by Tommy and Tommy was followed by Siobhan and Seamus. Others came for a while and left—families in need, travelers on their way to other places, Roma who needed warmth during cold winter storms. All were welcomed and loved, no matter how long their stay.

When Castiel left the world years later, he awoke to find himself guarding those he loved again from the castle’s walls and rooftops. He watched lovingly as his children’s children’s children ran noisily through the halls while the rest of the family did their jobs to keep the castle going. And when Callum joined him a few months later, Castiel wasn’t surprised. And they continued to watch over their family until the end of time.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked my venture it fairy tale land. Thanks for reading. :)


End file.
